Together We Will Live Forever
by ShayRose
Summary: A figure returns to the past in order to bring news of a man who has changed the face of the universe. With him, he brings a letter, revealing everything they will have to do, all laid out in front of them like a map. Very vague and unclear notes are scribbled next to each one, altering their course and leading them to somebody long since lost.
1. Gone

Quietly, their beautiful daughter lay in her bed, eyes closed and soundlessly asleep. Green eyes watched the girl from the doorway, her lengthy fingers caressing the wooden surface as she watched the small blonde child sleep. It had been hours since Peter left, off to the lab to try and track down Walter and who knew where else he had gone. The man she had chosen to spend her life with, have a child with, was nothing if not determined. Brushing her hair back, she carefully slid from the entryway to her child's bedroom and closed the door behind her. Etta wouldn't wake tonight, she had nothing to frighten her in her dreams. Making her way down the stairwell, she stopped as headlights split through the curtains of the front doorway.

As her fingers latched on to the smooth handle, she hoped silently that he found Walter. Life without the man would be difficult, coping with the loss. It would all be difficult. Olivia had returned to work only weeks prior, she was still getting used to the feel after nearly three years away from the FBI. Going back had been a decision all of its own, and it had taken much time to come to terms with. Peter ensured her that he would take care of Etta while she was gone, and jokes had been passed about how Olivia was to be the breadwinner of the household.

The moment the door opened and she saw his sullen blue eyes standing before her, she felt her heart sink. "Nothing?" she asked, brow knitting as she examined his face. Shaking his head, she moved aside to allow for her loved one to step into their home and put his things aside. "Was Astrid there? Did you get to talk to her?" Olivia questioned, earning yet another head shake.

"He wasn't there. Not there, not out getting milkshakes, he was just... Gone." Distress littered his facial features and Olivia reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek in the most comforting method should could think for that moment. Tenderly, she allowed her hand to drift to his shoulder and she pulled lightly forward, bringing him in for an embrace.

Pressing her lips against his shoulder, she exhaled and hoped to allow him solace with her for just a moment. "We'll try again tomorrow, I'll see if Broyles can help," she assured, looking up at him finally. The sea blue eyes were far away from her, hoping and worrying for a father who he had only recently had returned to him. "We'll find him, Peter," she added, conviction resting within her tone. "He can't have gone far."

Though truthfully, neither party knew how far Walter had gone. Years into the future, a blip in time. He was gone far away from them, and nothing they did would bring the man back.

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**A/N: Hopefully you enjoyed my little prologue. Chapter One coming soon! Reviews are appreciated! xox.**


	2. The Taos Hum

Five days and still no sign. The FBI was offering up no results and Olivia didn't want to admit it, but she was beginning to lose hope. Walter had never been gone for this long, not in all the years she had known him. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, searching for something that would lead them to him. "Come on, Walter," she whispered, shaking her head when the results came back negative. Peter would be home with Etta, perhaps, or more likely driving her around to old haunts where his father could possibly be found. How did you admit to your loved one that their father was off the radar completely? The thought had haunted her a hundred times or more. Over the years, Olivia Dunham had not found any sort of easy way to state the simple and yet so deeply emotional fact that a member of their family was dead or missing. It was always hard, and being that this time it was Peter, it was ten times that.

Rising from her chair, Olivia huffed out a breath and ran her exasperated hands over the length of her golden ponytail. Suddenly, the door opened and she was startled to attention as Agent Broyles made his way into the room. The tall man stood across from her, his dark eyes that knew her all too well examined her face for signs of good tidings. The look that she exchanged did not allow him what he had silently hoped for. "Anything yet?" Phillip asked, not averting his gaze from hers. The man had a way with her, knowing her better than almost anybody in the world, though neither would ever state the fact. They had been together for many years, growing to understand one another on a namely professional level. In another time line, Olivia had known both him and Colonel Broyles far better, though she couldn't walk around professing that fact. Much of the information that she held within her head she kept there, maintained in silence.

Shaking her head, she felt her brow knit even as she forced a meager smile upon her lips. "No, nothing," she responded, dejectedly. Neither of them liked that answer. As much as she wanted to find Walter just to ensure his safety, she also wanted to find him for Peter's sake. As days passed, he was growing more frantic. Pacing, searching his mind for any possibility of where his father had gone. The letter, intended by his father to calm his frantic nerves, had been cast aside. Peter wanted the truth, and what he held within that note didn't offer what he was hoping for. The man was built on the principle of logic, wanting to find reason for anything and everything, even when there was none. While he was better at leaping to conclusions than Olivia, herself, she still knew that he would be having troubles coming to terms with this. There was nothing she could do to help aside from what she was already working on.

"Astrid's been at the lab for three days, trying to find something that may help," Olivia added, tucking her lip between her teeth and breathing out slowly through her nose. Aside from Peter, Astrid was the closest to Walter. She spent the most time with him and had grown very fond of the man, losing him was berating her nerves as well.

Broyles offered her a nod, the best he could manage for the time being. "This may not be the best time, but a case was called in today," he told her, reaching out to hand her the small file in his hand. Olivia's knitted brow further furrowed as she extended her reach to take it. The bleak navy suit she wore felt like more than just a representation of her position in the FBI today. It felt like a reflection of her own emotions.

"A Fringe event?" she questioned, finding surprise in the fact. The last one had been... "It's been almost seven months." Once again, the man offered her only the slightest of head tips.

"If you aren't able to take it-" he began, but Olivia quickly took notice of the change and shook her head.

"No, I want it," her eyes flicked up towards the man before dropping back down to the file. Lifting a hand to her brow, she gently massaged the area with two fingers before dropping it again and nodding. "Thank you," she added, collecting her belongings and hurrying from the room before Broyles could add anything else.

XXX

Only the whirring of the tires accompanied their silence for quite some time. This would be the first event they had gone to, the first case worked, without Walter. Understandably, both parties were nervous that they would be unable to complete it without the assistance of the more than eccentric man. "Astrid, hi," Olivia said as the woman picked up. Balancing the cell phone between her shoulder and ear, she attempted to maintain focus on the road instead of the call she had just made. "Are you sure you're okay with Etta?" she questioned, gripping the wheel of the moving vehicle a little harder. Admittedly, she was hoping for an affirmative answer. More than anything, she wanted Peter to be at her side through this. Their daughter, however, came first.

"She's fine, don't worry about her," Astrid reassured, suddenly pulling the phone away slightly. "Say hi to mommy," she said to the little girl. A giggle from the adorable toddler before a brief, "Hi, Mommy! I love you!"

Such sweet words brought a smile to Olivia's face. "I love you too, sweet girl," she smiled as Astrid pulled the phone back to speak to the agent once more.

"See? Don't worry about her. You just go do what you do best."

Briefly thanking the woman, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief as they came to a rolling stop outside of a large executive building. Glancing sidelong at Peter, she noticed him looking in her direction. Momentarily, she turned to focus on him and offered him a comforting smile. "You gonna be alright with this?" he asked her, allowing his eyes to move over her face for a moment.

It took a moment to process, but at last, Olivia managed to nod in response. "Are you?" she questioned back. Peter's gaze shifted uncomfortably out the window, but Olivia's never faltered. "We can do this, Peter." At last, his ocean eyes returned to hers and a melancholy smile touched his lips.

"Let's go," he said, pushing the door to the car open and stepping out with only the softest brush of leather on material. Olivia exhaled, following suit quickly. Officers had cordoned off the area, already trying to keep civilians away. There was blood everywhere, the sources of the carnage lay upon the ground in heaps. Five, no six, bodies. As they approached the scene, one of the men stopped her.

"You're going to want these before you go in there," he said, handing her a pair of black ear muffs that were generally used in shooting ranges. Wrapping her fingers around them, she frowned.

"Why? What's going on?" she questioned. That was one thing about those tiny files that Broyles gave her. They didn't have much more than an address and a victim count within them.

The officer sighed and pointed to one of his men as he cautiously tugged his own muffs down around his neck. "That's my man that got here first. He just... Went insane, screaming, holding his head. None of us could hear anything. Then..." Suddenly ashen, the man breathed out as he continued, "Blood just came pouring out of his ears and he collapsed. Like his brain exploded, or something."

Immediately thereafter, he pulled his muffs back on and used a hand signal to tell Olivia and Peter to do the same. Jerking his hand, he turned towards the scene. A shared gaze passed between the two Fringe experts before they began making their approach through the bright yellow tape.

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**A/N: Enjoy! Reviews are appreciated! xox.**


	3. Hello, Olivia

Red liquid oozed over the concrete. Many quick steps and careful paces were made just to ensure that the base of their shoes wouldn't become coated in the crimson goo seeping near their feet. The body nearest them was the one of the officer, his once brown hair matted. The eyes of the man were wide, expressing a look of shock and fear. Crouching next to the man, Olivia eyed the body with curiosity. There was nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that his ears seemed to have given way for his brain. That was unnerving. A tap on her shoulder forced her gaze upwards, the officer who had given them both the ear muffs was now handing gloves in their direction. With a brief nod of thanks, Olivia slid the material over her hands and reached down to push the deceased officer's face gently to the left so she could examine the side of his head. What greeted her was a gaping hole, much larger than the average ear canal. Furrowing her brow, she lifted her gaze to the other bodies and rose to meet Peter.

The man was crouched next to the form of a young woman, perhaps no older than twenty. Her body was contorted, as if she had been writhing on the ground in pain prior to her demise. The look of horror etched upon her features matched that of the officer laying nearby. As she moved from one to the next, she noticed the same terrorized expression upon each one's face. Perhaps it was simply fear caused by the pain of what they were experiencing, perhaps it was what they were hearing, itself. Either way, Olivia had no inkling as to what could have caused this. Tapping Peter's shoulder, she jerked her head towards the bright yellow crime scene tape sealing off the area. Between the ear muffs and the disinclination to shout in order for him to simply hear her, she decided that it best they make their way away from the scene, seeing as removing the muffs could possibly cause a rather painful demise. Other units wandered about, the same black muffs covering their ears as they searched for anything that could indicate what had happened here.

Coming up on the other side of the tape, Olivia allowed her muffs to drop around her neck. Her eyes flicked over the bodies, scrutinizing them. Certainly this was a Fringe event. There was no way that it was anything else. Now, as the definiteness of that came to light, she felt her heart sinking. Walter had been such a key element in depicting what had happened in the past, and while she and Peter understood a lot more now than they had years ago, it wasn't everything. It was hardly a nick in the glass.

"It's like their brains just popped under the pressure," Peter said, dropping his ear protection to his neck with a gentle click of plastic on metal.

Olivia nodded, glancing towards her counterpart and exhaling. "What could have caused it, though? There aren't any indications around, and whatever did it hasn't seemed to pass that point."

The first conclusion she leaped to was the possibility of the Alternate Universe having some kind of effect; however, that idea was discounted in accordance to their previous experiences with the Alternates. They had never created this sort of discord in the past, though it had been turbulent when attempts to tear between the universes had been made by people such as David Robert Jones. Shaking his head, Peter gave her a knowing look. After so many years together, the two had learned to practically read the thoughts of one another. Between Olivia's photographic memory and Peter's talents at rapidly learning people's "tells", they created some kind of power team. Now, if they only had Walter's ingenuity, they would have been able to figure out the whole plot.

"Maybe some kind of ultrasonic noise? Something we can't pick up on. It could be some kind of high frequency playing on a loop. Did you notice the ground?" he questioned, pointing towards the place he had been standing in.

"No," she admitted, brow knitting tightly and her arms folding comfortably over her chest.

"It was _vibrating_. Where I was, right there," he told her, jerking his head towards the woman he had been crouched next to. "I didn't feel it until I was kneeling next to her."

Taken aback, Olivia stared at the position the woman was lying in. "What could create that kind of noise?" she asked. "Some kind of device?"

Shrugging in response, Peter sighed. "I have no idea."

XXX

With a caravan of vans in tow, they collected what they could from the scene and returned to the lab. Once inside, prior to allowing the coroners assisting them access, Olivia went in to collect her daughter. "I'll take Etta home, call me if you find anything," she told Peter, offering him a smile as she pushed the doors to the lab open. A loud _moo_ bounded off the ceiling of the vast room, shortly thereafter followed by a young girl's giggle.

"She's soft!' Etta squealed, another moo from the cow echoing through the building. As the dark haired woman and small blonde child came into view, Olivia found her smile building. "Mommy!" the girl screeched, pointing in the direction of her mother while Astrid struggled to keep hold on the toddler.

Quickly, Olivia made her way towards her daughter and released Astrid from her duty as a babysitter. "Hello, my darling," the blonde crooned as she kissed her daughter's cheek, the girl fitting securely against her hip. "Did you have fun today?" she whispered, earning a grin from her daughter. "Thank you, Astrid," she said, earning a proud smile from the woman she could easily classify as "friend" now.

"Anytime," Astrid assured her, squeezing her forearm. "I didn't have time to check the security cameras or-" Instantly, the smile upon her lips faltered and Olivia waged an inner war to maintain it. Noting the change in demeanor, Astrid quickly shook her head. "I'll be able to go through the tapes, don't worry," she added, nodding her head.

Exhaling, Olivia tightened the smile, adding a nod to fit it. "Sure. We have... evidence. Peter's going to probably need your help," she told her, avoiding anything that could indicate the battalion of bodies resting just down the hall. Astrid made a small noise of disappointment, but nodded in acceptance. This was the part she hated the most and growing used to it seemed hardly possible.

"We'll get right on it," she said, moving away from Olivia and her daughter in order to prep the lab for what was to come.

That left just the two of them. "Do you want to say bye to daddy?" Olivia leaned in, kissing her daughter once more. The statement earned an excited cheer from the child before they headed off to track down Peter.

XXX

Home, sweet home. As she clicked the lock on the door behind her, Olivia felt a wave of relief wash over her being. This place was safe, it was always safe. All of the things they had seen, the troubles they dealt with outside of its walls, it was like they couldn't get to her there. As her fingers tugged at her shoes and she set them ceremoniously down within the closet, she could feel the weight of the day lift off her shoulders. With her cell phone still safely within her pocket, she turned back to her child and watched as the girl grinned up at her. Pretty blue eyes, matching those of her father, gazed at her mother with such adoration. Such love.

The smile that tugged at Olivia's lips came effortlessly as she reached down and lifted her child. "Cartoons, baby?" she questioned, running her fingers over her daughter's cheek. The perfect little creation nestled closer in her arms, sliding one arm around the back of her mother's neck and tucking her head down against her shoulder with an exhausted, "Yeah."

Apparently, the day had been wearing on more than just Olivia and Peter. It had been long for their daughter, as well. Brushing soft, golden locks away from the child's face, she smiled at her and nodded before toting her off to the living room and setting her before the television. Collecting her blanket and a small, worn stuffed panda that she had ingeniously named "Teddy". While neither Olivia nor Peter had said a word about her choice of names, Walter had questioned the girl on the choice. An extensive lesson was attempted as to what the small black and white plush toy actually was, and where Pandas came from. Peter had not hesitated to put a stop to it immediately. At the time, Etta had hardly been two and a half, and frankly, the mating rituals of Pandas were far from something necessary for a toddler to know.

Without hesitation, the child coiled up on the sofa with her bear wrapped in her arms and her head against the cushions. Olivia flicked on the television, glancing to her daughter. "Which show did you want to watch?" she asked, smiling at her daughter.

"Sponge Bob!" she cheered. Briefly, Olivia felt her heart stammer in her chest before nodding and scouring the recordings for her show. Many things had been brought to the home by Walter, and of course, _Sponge Bob Square Pants _had been one of them. He found the show endearing, and never paused his excitement over being able to share it with his granddaughter.

As the characters blossomed on the set, the telltale theme starting up, Olivia rose from her place. Lovingly, she touched her daughter's head before heading off to the kitchen in order to tidy up their borderline immaculate home. It was something she found herself compelled to do, simply in order to keep herself busy until the phone call Peter had promised.

Dishes had piled up, though she had no idea how it had happened so quickly. Suddenly, they were just there. As she lifted one plate and set it in the dishwasher's rack, she made her way to the next and followed suit once again. Still, the sounds from the living room could be heard as she kept audible track of her daughter's whereabouts.

Suddenly, a shift in the atmosphere that was hardly noticeable at first. Her fingers tightened around the plate on instinct. In an instant, the feeling vanished once again. Exhaling, she moved to set the plate alongside the others in the rack when the dark leather sheen of shoes caught her eye.

The plate dropped from her fingers and her right hand lunged for her piece. It wasn't there. Racking her thoughts, she searched for the possibility that she had set it down. No, she hadn't. She would have known. Panic built within her chest, fear for her daughter's safety, as well as her own. Everything she had been trained in, dealt with, how could she have possibly _lost _her weapon?

It wasn't lost. As her gaze shifted towards the man standing totem still behind her, she saw the small black metal gun hanging limply at his side.

"Hello, Olivia."

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**A/N: Thank you to ****castlefringereader,** Rebecca & Guest for your reviews! They were lovely! Hope to have the next chapter up soon! xox.


	4. A Friend Indeed

The piercing gaze from across her kitchen held her still. Jaw tensed, Olivia returned the same unwavering intensity. Her focus maintained on the man, never moving towards the route to the living room. If she did, there was a chance that he could realize Etta was there. By chance, if this was an attack, the man could easily use the child in the next room over against her. That was not allowed to happen. Swallowing hard, she tried to trace the man back in her memory. The slicked back sandy hair and all too knowledgeable hazel eyes. There was nothing in her thoughts, no trace, and yet still this man seemed to know her. At the very least, he knew her name, where she lived and how to get in her house when she knew, with certainty, that she had locked the door.

"Who are you?" she finally questioned, body tensed and prepared for a fight. The man's head quirked, tipping ever so slightly with his chin cocked to the left in a highly perceptive manner.

After a moment, possibly an assessment of the situation, he spoke. "There is no need to be frightened," he guaranteed. A morality like she had never seen before shone through in his eyes. For a fraction of time, she felt like she could trust him. Immediately, she thrust the idea from her mind and found her attention latching back on to the gun resting within his lengthy fingers.

Remaining silent, Olivia quickly attempted to create a plan. Get the gun, get Etta, get out. That was the premise, and as she attempted to think of different ways in which to execute it properly, the man turned. Freezing, Olivia stared at him as he took two strides towards the living room. Her whole body lit up, ready to lunge at the man. Instead of continuing forth, however, the stranger stopped at the counter and reached out, setting the weapon down with hardly a sound.

It seemed like such an abnormal action, simply relinquishing something that could be used against her. Quickly she reminded herself that the man had taken her piece from her side without notice. That hardly warranted a need for the gun itself, not when he could maneuver through her home entirely undetected. Undeniably, he had simply taken it so Dunham, herself, would have been incapable of using it. Now, as he stood in the very center of the triangle that would ensure her escape, she felt caged. The man was blocking her quickest route to Etta, her weapon and ultimately her exit. That brought with it a very strong sense of urgency and a desire to free herself from the trap.

"What do you want?" she asked, maintaining her position. From the living room, a gentle thud of small feet as Etta and Teddy abandoned the safety of the sofa and came into view. "Mommy?" the girl questioned, looking from her mother to the man standing between them.

Pure dread ensnared Olivia's body. "Go watch your show, Etta," she urged, attempting to maintain as relaxed of a demeanor as she could. Her spine remained stiff as she fought the urge to run to her daughter, certain she wouldn't make it far past the stranger.

"Who is that?" Etta questioned, the toddler looking at the gray suited man separating mother and child. The man's head turned, examining the child.

Slowly, he brought his attention back to Olivia and spoke once more. "A friend, Henrietta," he told the child, all the while staring intently at Olivia. Her lungs halted, mid-breath. He knew Henrietta's name. The small child looked to her mother for confirmation, earning a hesitant nod from the woman.

"Go watch your show, Etta," Olivia repeated, glancing only briefly at her daughter before looking back to the man. Noting that she wouldn't have much of a chance for anymore information and finding herself confused by the entire situation at hand, Henrietta followed her mother's directions and shuffled back to the sofa.

"You say you're a friend? Prove it," the agent ordered, gaze darkening. "How do you know my name? How do you know my daughter?" Anger built at the idea of this man watching her family, monitoring them as they came and went.

Instead of answering immediately, as Olivia hoped he would, he examined her for a moment and gradually took a step back to his original position, allowing her access to the living room and her route of escape. This perplexed the woman and she glanced from her exit path back to the man as he offered her a nod. "You may go if you wish."

Taking heed, Olivia managed three steps through the kitchen before his voice stopped her. "If you go, though, the information I have for you will vanish, as will I, and you will never get this chance again."

Stopping, she glanced back at the man over her shoulder and noted how he glanced down at a small, circular gadget that fit easily in his palm. It reminded her of a pocket watch.

"What is that?" she asked, her curiosity overwhelming her desire to escape.

Looking at her, the man rotated his hand in order to show her the gadget. It was a watch, only instead of one face, it held three. "A time piece," he told her, simply. "It allows me to know the time here, at home and how long I have left between the two."

A timer? "Where is home?" she inquired. Kindly, a smile rose upon his lips.

"Not far from here, at least in physical distance," he told her, nodding his head. The questions, instead of being answered, came far more frequently. "I do not have long. Are you willing to listen, now?"

Shifting her body, Olivia faced the man fully. Now next to her weapon, she felt far more secure than she had only moments prior. Her fingers rested next to the gun, a safety precaution more than anything. Slowly, she nodded, though she hadn't an inkling as to what he had to tell her.

At last, the man exhaled, nodding in response. "I have both a message and a letter from a dear friend. He asked me to find you, Olivia Dunham. He said that you would be able to help him."

Frowning, Olivia contemplated his words for a moment. "I don't understand. Who's this friend?" she questioned.

The man made to speak, but was interrupted by three unsubtle beeps. Glancing back at his watch, a look of urgency crossed his sharp features.

"Doctor Walter Bishop. He has made a mistake; he needs your help." The man reached swiftly into the breast pocket of his charcoal suit, handing Olivia a letter. "He said this would explain it. I must go."

No other words were spoken from the man as he pulled a secondary device from his pocket and snapped it against his neck, tapping a few commands on the side. Hurriedly, Olivia backed away, in order to avoid any harm the device may cause. Instead, once activated, a shrill wail sounded. Lifting her hands to shield her ears from the noise, Olivia folded the top portion of her body in order to attempt to protect her face. Right before her, the man simply vanished all together. The kitchen remained unscathed, no trace that he had even been there a moment prior. The only thing proving there had even been another presence in the room was the simple white envelope clutched tightly in Olivia's trembling grasp.

Lifting the paper, she examined the address on the front before flipping the envelope over. It matched Peter's message from five days ago in every way except one. The address was different, entirely. It didn't make any sense. The handwriting was Walter's, that much was certain and both their names were scribed on the front, however she chose not to open it. Not yet. First, she had a phone call to make.

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**A/N: Thank you to cotillion & Ariahnah for your reviews! xox.**


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